You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
catherzh 's review for:
Cunt: A Declaration of Independence
by Inga Muscio
One thing this book does very effectively: desensitize you to the word "cunt." What it does not do well: provide a solid argument for reclaiming the word in the first place. Like other readers, I expected the book to be based more on this reasoning. But after simply proclaiming that women should embrace "cunt" because they have one, the book moves on.
The whole thing reads like a long tumblr rant about periods and white supremacy, with some conspiracy theories thrown into the afterword. I was constantly surprised by the writing style, wherein the author apparently thought proper grammar would have ruined her street cred and just couldn't be allowed for more than two sentences in a row. Maybe the overly aggressive suggestions for smashing the patriarchy (like gathering mobs of women to throw rotten eggs at rapists or walking around naked letting your period blood drip on your kitchen floor) were meant to come across as funny but not to be taken seriously, but this kind of freaked me out. Inga's brand of feminism is extreme.
I'm only a budding feminist myself, so while she did raise some good points about accepting your femininity, practicing self-love, and defending yourself and other woman, much of the book felt like a parody. Feminism has always been considered inflammatory, and for a lot of people the term still brings to mind psycho crazy bitches. Books like this don't help erase that stigma.
The whole thing reads like a long tumblr rant about periods and white supremacy, with some conspiracy theories thrown into the afterword. I was constantly surprised by the writing style, wherein the author apparently thought proper grammar would have ruined her street cred and just couldn't be allowed for more than two sentences in a row. Maybe the overly aggressive suggestions for smashing the patriarchy (like gathering mobs of women to throw rotten eggs at rapists or walking around naked letting your period blood drip on your kitchen floor) were meant to come across as funny but not to be taken seriously, but this kind of freaked me out. Inga's brand of feminism is extreme.
I'm only a budding feminist myself, so while she did raise some good points about accepting your femininity, practicing self-love, and defending yourself and other woman, much of the book felt like a parody. Feminism has always been considered inflammatory, and for a lot of people the term still brings to mind psycho crazy bitches. Books like this don't help erase that stigma.